Such A Beautiful Disaster
by Sawyer's girl9
Summary: Shaw was Ian's best friend and mercenery. But when he goes to murder him, Shaw completely changes...
1. Chapter 1

Introduction- Meeting

"And what do you think makes you suitable as a mercenary, Mr. Shaw?" the voice asked, from the chair.

Shaw laughed. The chair turned. Shaw looked, smiling, at his boss. He was handsome- wavy blonde hair, sharp eyes, trim body and cutting physique. But he was a more cunning and clever man than met the eyes. Shaw and Ian Howe shared a moment of silence, then Ian nodded. They shook hands.

"Congratulations, Mr. Shaw. You have joined my little gang. We've been friends for so long. Now you've really got my back."

"And you have mine."

Chapter 1

Ian checked his gun, before walking into the apartment door. He was alert and prepared- ready to fire, certain that his victim would resist. He heard the shower turn off, and footsteps. He waited, tense, standing on the balls of his feet.

"Hello, Ian." Shaw murmured in his ear. Ian whipped around, clicking the safety off of his gun. And lowered the weapon, seeing Shaw in only a towel.

Having never seen his best friend, who had stood by his side most of his life, so bare, it startled Ian, making him gape and blink furiously.

Shaw chuckled and looked at the gun. "Here to kill me? Oh, I see. You don't want me with you guys anymore- I'm just not valuable."

Ian came to his senses, and dropped the gun on the bed. Shaw smiled, and smoothed his bald head.

"Shaw- you know how this has to end."

Shaw backed Ian up to the wall. "I know how to end it, Ian." He whispered back, then leaned in and kissed him tenderly.

Ian started to resist, weakly pushing Shaw away. Shaw ran a hand through Ian's silky hair, and Ian's mind was in chaos.

Why, how, what? This was wrong, this was stupid, repulsive, disgusting! But still… Shaw was so very passionate, Ian could not possibly block it. He was in control now.

They broke away, breathing heavily.

"Shaw, what the-?"

Both men glanced at the gun on the bed. Ian dived for it, whilst Shaw did the same. Ian gabbed it first, aiming it at Shaw.

"Ian! No!" Shaw gasped.

"Why should I let you live? Why did you do that?"

"Why? Why?! Ian, isn't it obvious that I like you?"

"But we're friends, we're men!"

"If you feel that way, kill me." Shaw said, shrugging, his face clouded. "But I won't regret it."

Ian pulled back the gun and tried to squeeze the trigger, but for some reason, he couldn't. He tried again, with the same result.

Shaw blinked. Ian yelled in frustration. "Damn you, Shaw!"

He threw away the gun and grabbed Shaw, kissing him vehemently, feeling him relax under his touch.

And for the very first time in his life, he was happy. Ian Howe, the criminal mastermind, was in love.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ian groaned, his head throbbing. He opened his eyes, tousling his blonde hair. He saw an unfamiliar apartment and fell back onto his pillow, afraid to roll over and see some pretty young girl he'd met the previous night.

He turned slowly, then paused, remembering the previous night properly. And there he was. Shaw was lying next to him, smelling of sweat and masculinity, naked, covered slightly by the mucky duvet sheets.

Ian blushed as he glanced around the apartment. It had been virtually clean hours ago, but now it was destroyed. The lamps were smashed, shelves fallen, wallpaper peeling from their passion. Clothes were thrown everywhere, in the rush to take them off. And the damp rug spoke for itself…

With a sigh, Ian climbed out of bed, unperturbed by his lack of clothes, and off in hunt for the shower. Ten minutes later, he was fresh and dressed in Shaw's slightly larger shirt and jeans.

Shaw was sitting up, rubbing his forehead, but grinned at Ian in the doorway.

"Have a nice night?" he asked cheekily.

Ian laughed. "Well… you could say that!"

"God, I could do with a coffee. And some aspirin."

"Get washed up, then we'll go out, yeah?" Ian asked, a little anxiously, in case Shaw declined, throwing this fairytale into a nightmare.

"'Kay. Am I the only one in pain, here? God, Ian!" Shaw chuckled, getting in the shower.

Ian waited, and thought about their new relationship. Was it really wise, being a gay criminal? Definitely not. Much too vulnerable. But it _had_ been the only good night he'd ever had, and it _was_ very thrilling…

Once they were seated in Starbucks, Shaw chattered on about how they'd met and their adventures since. Clearly, he adored Ian and would probably die for him in a heartbeat.

"Shaw… I don't know what this is." Ian interrupted. Shaw's face was crestfallen.

"I mean, is this a real relationship? Are we taking this seriously? And, is it _right_?"

Shaw put a hand across the table on Ian's. Ian looked at it hesitantly, then shifted his hand away.

"Ian, what is wrong with you? I give you a good, fantastic, _exhilarating_ night and you dismiss me completely? Are you regretting it?"

"No, no, not at all. I just want to know how to proceed. I think… it's best if we keep it secret. That way, no one can use it against us, and we can continue in peace."

Shaw bit his lip.

"But… if we're on a dangerous mission, you won't be able to show any emotion. Like, none at all. Even if I die."

"No, I would if your life was at stake. But, in public, no affection, okay?"

"Agreed. So, Mr. Howe, how's the coffee?"

Ian looked up at Shaw under his eyelashes and smiled flintily. "Absolutely fantastic!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ian started up the steps, his footsteps soft as possible. He whispered into his headset "Shaw, three minutes. Go."

There was a commotion some corridors ahead and raised voices let Ian know where to go. He rushed past the apartments, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.

"No. 6, no. 6..." he muttered to himself, searching for the door. No. 6 was a blank door, as normal as the grey apartments right beside it. Ian crashed into it, pushing his full weight against it, and it fell, with a resonating thud.

The walls were covered in patriotic American posters, of presidents and historic moments. There was an ordinary little fridge and oven, a sink with piled washing up, and two doors lead off into a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple, brief, like the home of a man who thought more than he worked, and had a deep interest in his country's legacy.

"Shaw, we're clear." he told him, on the line.

Shaw walked in slowly, eyes flicking around in every direction, sensing for danger. He checked the rooms, finding no-one, and relaxed.

"Where is he? He was supposed to be back by now."

"Benjamin Gates is supposed to be very hard to pin down, Shaw. Maybe he saw us coming and left."

Shaw flipped through the books and files on the desk. He put the door back in place and turned wild-eyed to Ian.

"Shaw, no! We're working!" Ian told him, shaking his head.

"Aw, come on! He won't be back for a while. And it's so hard to resist… You're wearing those skinny jeans I bought you, aren't you? They look good…" Shaw groaned, winking at him.

Ian smirked, then shook himself. "No! Shaw, are you trying to seduce me?!"

"Is it working?"

"No, it is not! We agreed not to do this, especially on the job."

Shaw sighed dramatically and flopped out on the bed, his shirt ruffled up, displaying defined muscles.

Ian bit his lip, torn by indecision. He gave in, locked the door and joined him, removing the shirt completely. He kissed his lips and collarbone, Shaw's eyes ravenous. They got to a point where clothing was unnecessary- when the front door slammed. Shaw dressed himself quickly, reaching for his gun.

"Crap, he's home! Ian, get dressed!" he hissed, alert and annoyed.

Ian lay on the duvet, reluctant to leave and breathless. He sulkily shoved on the sweaty clothes, taking the safety off his gun and fixed a dangerous look on his face.

"Hello, Ben."

Benjamin Gates was peering in a cupboard, looking in surprise at the two men. He was rugged and tall, very good-looking with brown hair and a clever, determined attitude. He frowned at them, suspicious.

"Are you Ian?"

Ian smiled, his heart racing still. He checked out the man before him curiously, attracted by the confidence and intelligence radiating from him. He noticed Shaw's brow furrow, clearly jealous.

"You called, Ben. My investment in a certain treasure hunt of yours?"

Ben relaxed, but was still on guard. Ian smile got wider.

'He's no fool. I know I'm going to like him. Very handsome, too…' Ian thought.

"Yeah. Okay, um, have you accepted my proposal? The Templar Treasure? We need to get to the Arctic, find Charlotte. It might get expensive. And dangerous." he warned.

"No problem. I have a crew, and all expensive has been covered. We only need you, Ben, and a computer expert."

Ben laughed. "I know where to find one."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Files. Papers. Orders. Everything that Riley Poole was made to do, and didn't. He took a bite out of a burger, pushed the work in the bin and returned to his computer screen. He was hacking into the American Government, casually flicking through documents marked 'Top Secret'. He drummed his fingers on his desk, saving the files to a secure folder.

"Okay. That's JFK done. Where's- Ah, there it is." Riley slurped his strawberry milkshake in satisfaction. For months now, he'd started working on his conspiracy theory book, aiming to reveal untold secrets to the public. Being an office worker was too simple for a computer nerd like Riley. Besides, he could do the work in a microsecond. And if he was paid by the hour, why not get paid for something he loved?

He flicked through his network of passwords. Air Force, Nuclear Missiles, bank accounts, National Security… Ah, United Nations! He enjoyed the challenge of mazes and pass codes posed for this particular site. The United Nations hid their secrets very well- even Riley only reached the intermediate security levels. He'd attempted everything to break into the deepest, most private secrets. Looked like a challenge for Ron; his cyberspace super-hacker friend.

"Having fun are we, Mr. Poole?"

His boss, Mr. Paik, loomed over him, glaring. Riley gulped. A click of a mouse, and the office work popped up, hiding everything else.

"Nearly finished, sir."

"You were on IM. Who were you talking to?"

"J-just a friend. Sorry, sir."

"Yes, I'm sure you are. One more slip up, Poole, and you're out. Stop playing computer games, and get to work!" he yelled, and stomped off.

Riley sighed. Was this what his skills were reduced to? If only Paik knew that Riley could break into his bank accounts, crash his electronics, plant viruses everywhere…

'Hey Ron, what's up?' he typed.

'Hi Riley. U found that code 4 me?'

Simple Ron. He wanted the code for Guitar Hero. He could hack every computer anywhere, anytime, but not Playstations. Riley smiled.

'It's BGOBGORRB. Can u find the password 4 the UN?'

'Thanks. Y?'

'Bored.'

'K, gimme a sec.'

Riley waited patiently, tapping the beat to War Pigs. A hand grabbed his shoulder, jolting him out of his seat. He closed everything on his computer quickly, spinning around.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Paik-" he stopped, cocking his head curiously. Three men stood before him, two with gun holsters under their jackets. The other one was older than Riley, wearing casual clothes and a brilliant charismatic smile. He stepped forward.

"Hi, Riley. I'm Ben Gates."

Riley bit his lip. Uh-oh. Prepare for interrogation.

"Umm, okay, listen. I totally don't know anything about computers. I-"

"Whoa, calm down, Riley-"

"No! You can't arrest me! I _know _what the government's hiding!"

"We're not the government." the dark, scary-looking one said.

"H-huh? Who're you?"

Ben leant on the wall of Riley's office cubicle. "Well, I'm a treasure hunter, or 'historian'." He gestured to the bald, scary-looking guy. "This is Shaw. He works for this guy, Ian Howe." He turned to the more mysterious, cunning man, who obviously had the authority here.

Ian shook Riley's trembling hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Poole."

Riley gave him a suspicious look. Ian laughed. "Ben knows your little friend, Ron, is it?"

"Is he in trouble?"

"No. Relax. I'm currently investing in a project of Ben's. A treasure hunt, you might call it. We need a tech guy, and we want you."

"Why didn't you just hire Ron? He's better than me."

Ben leant down in front of Riley, holding the arms of his computer chair. Riley felt a sudden burst of excitement. He found himself gazing dumbly into Ben's beautiful gentle brown eyes, his heart racing.

"We want you. Ron's too dodgy."

Riley giggled. "I can hack into National Security, and I'm not dodgy?"

Ben winked at him. Riley blinked in amazement, stunned at this perfect stranger.

"I'll do it."

Shaw stood on the porch of his cabin, staring brooding out into the Antarctica landscape. It was amazing, but so solitary. So lonely to be out here by yourself. And he was. Ian was obsessed with that history geek, Ben, and no longer wanted him. Everyday, Ian would rise from their shared bed and leave to talk to Ben. About history. About maps. About anything and everything. Never to Shaw. The mercenary was forgotten.

"Shaw?"

He was back. Waiting to banish the cold of the day by using the warmth of Shaw's body. That's all he was needed for now.

"Why are you out here alone?"

Ian didn't know what loneliness was. How he could he know anything about how Shaw felt?

"Go away."

Shaw felt two freezing hands entwine themselves around his waist. Ian snuggled his head into Shaw's neck, biting gently, playfully.

"Want to heat up? It is pretty cold out here."

"No. Go fuck with Ben."

Ian froze, jerking his lips away. "W-what?"

"You heard."

"Aw, come on, Shaw…"

Shaw spun around angrily. "No! I've had it with you, Ian. I'm not your rebound boy, alright? We're through."

Ian spluttered in protest. He blocked Shaw's way. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"I know you like him, Ian. You practically drool over him, like he's the shiny new toy, all that charm, all that knowledge, and all his fucking good looks. But you're not the only one. Riley is the one Ben is chasing. He's so not chasing you."

"No! Ben's mine!"

"I thought _I _was yours?"

Ian looked at the floor. "I did love you, Shaw. I did. I still do. It's just… he's here. It-it's hard. To resist."

"Fuck you."

That night, Shaw slept alone in his log cabin, listening. He could hear them. He could hear Ben protesting. He could hear Ian's persuasion. Then he covered his head with his pillow, not wanting to hear the rest, to hear their _passion_. He cried himself to sleep, salty teardrops staining the fabric.

Shaw knew Riley lay awake in a cabin a few yards away, probably confused and scared. Not understanding that the sounds he heard were of his own lover with Shaw's man. Of the lies in solitary confinement, deep in Antarctica. Poor kid.

The next day, all the men left the cabins for the location of 'The Charlotte'. Nothing was said.

Ben and Ian rode together in one snow machine, with Riley in the back. Shaw was shunned to ride with Viktor, and the other guys, sharing smokes and doing the dirty work, as usual. They knew nothing about what had happened. All the evidence was left in Shaw's bleeding heart.

"They're heading in that direction. I guess they found the ship." Viktor said, pointing north-west.

Shaw started excavating the ship, with everyone else. Ian came up to him.

"Shaw?"

"Yes, sir?"

Ian's face fell. "So I'm just your boss now?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I thought I heard you last night with Mr. Gates. Or maybe I was mistaken." Shaw said bitterly.

"Shaw, please. I never meant for things to go that far."

"Sounded like you did."

Ian grabbed his hand. "I know I screwed up, Shaw. And you hate me. But Gates-"

"He screwed over Riley. You've wrecked everything."

"Riley forgives him. Gates wants nothing more to do with me, at least not in that way. If I promise to stay with you…"

"…Then you get back an idiot. I won't forgive you. And I will not forget. But I will never stop loving you."


End file.
